


Christmas Disaster

by Opus_Love



Category: Boku no Hero Academia, My Hero Academia
Genre: Christmas, Cuddles by the fire, Endeavor is redeemed, Fluff, M/M, Mentioning of Todoroki siblings, Power Outage, Snow Storm, Snowing - Freeform, Softness, mentioning of Kaminari Denki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 19:26:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17147711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Opus_Love/pseuds/Opus_Love
Summary: Izuku works very hard to make this Christmas perfect. However, one storm and terrible planning with outlets leads to nothing but a mess.





	Christmas Disaster

Gentle snowflakes lay a heavy blanket on the streets of Valery Street as windowsills pile with snow. Windows decorate themselves with frost acting as a second layer of glass. Flashes of green, red, white, and blue litter the road with music playing from a house. Said house belongs under the name of Todoroki-Midoriya, and the couple inside busies themselves with preparations for the holiday. Lights from the roof to the porch and even the front yard coated their abode. One thousand three hundred and ninety one lights to be exact with forty five spares in total to replace any broken lights. This counts all the lights inside and out that festively shimmer. Every cord is buried in snow, hidden under a rug, or tucked away to stay out of the couple’s way. Midoriya is most frantic during these materialistic times of year. Everything has been accounted for twice over, and he is in the midsts of a third account. 

“If dinner will be ready at five that leaves us at least twenty minutes to finish cleaning, but knowing my mom, she’ll show up early giving us about ten minutes. The snow may slow her down stretching our spare time to fifteen minutes. Your siblings-“ The endless rant of carefully timed calculations are cut off by a gentle kiss on the lips. Shouto, with his left arm wrapped around Izuku’s back, breaks their lip locked embrace to press his forehead against green curls. 

“Don’t worry so much, Izuku. Everything we planned will work out.” He removes his arm to hand Izuku a somewhat poorly wrapped present. At least six pieces of tape held the wrapping paper that tore at the corner together. A white corner of the box laying beneath the paper sticking out contrasts from the plaid pattern. A loosely tied green ribbon on the top distracts from the tear in the bottom left corner. 

“I did my best. I’m not quite used to gift wrapping just yet.” He admits as the other gives a smile and light chuckle. 

“I think it’s great for a beginner. My mom and I wrapped gifts for my dad constantly, so I’m a master.” Izuku places the box in his pile of gifts from Shouto. All the others have some strange mistake on them such as an incorrect fold or a misplaced tag, but it each attempt is heartwarming. The clock strikes five just as the oven timer goes off. Standing from the tree, Izuku makes his way to the oven ignoring a blinking light in the kitchen.  

“Remind me to fix that.” Shouto mentions as he sees it flicker as if it is a flame. Hearing the faint call from the kitchen, he pulls aside a few cords behind the couch to plug in a radio. The kitchen light flickers even more, so the man begins to ponder about fixing it right away. 

Humming along off key to the music that began playing, Izuku carefully arranges the food they had spent long hours prepping. Shivering even with the heat from the oven, he turns the heat higher to help. Unknowingly, a few lights have dimmed around him. That would be the least of his worries, for the guest list is his main concern after dinner. This will be the first Christmas Shouto’s father is invited to. The man that had no right to be called a hero from behind closed doors is finally welcomed into their home. Years of redemption, apologies, and healing has given him the opportunity to attend the dinner. Even Shoto’s poor mother who spent years behind the walls of her hospital has begun to carefully bring him back into her life. Each member of the Todoroki family was weary of the self proclaimed hero even to this day. Baby steps over broken glass they took. However, even Shouto has to move on from his past. He is not a prize in his lineage. He is not a second Endeavor. He is Shouto Todoroki-Midoriya, and he would be honored to have a nuclear family with Izuku at his side. 

The radio’s chatter of the hottest holiday gift grows louder as Izuku flips mindlessly through the channels of the TV to find a movie for the season. Every surface has been wiped, every plate carefully set down, and the Christmas light shine bright in the heavy pouring snow. A beacon in the cold afternoon. Feeling gently arms wrap around his torso, Izuku turns to his husband of five years. 

“You look really nice in that outfit. Am I dressed well enough? I don’t want to look lazy.” He wears a white button up shirt with straight black jeans and red suspenders to keep himself festive. However, the loud green hair atop his head is enough to be its own Christmas tree. 

“You look like a candy cane.” Sweet and irresistible. However, the last part is not included in Shouto’s sentence leaving Izuku to worry even more. He should have known better, but at least it looks festive for the holiday. 

“Thank you?” Sighing softly, he nuzzles his cheek against the warm half of Shouto’s face with a chuckle. He can feel the heat radiating off of him like a fireplace. Almost too warm, and the scent of smoke was in the air. 

“Calm down, Sho. You’re starting to smoke.” He giggles but is left without reply. Pulling back, he notices it is not Shouto that is radiating so much heat. Had the house always been so warm? Even the cold side of Shouto’s body feels heated. 

“It’s not me. Did you leave something in the oven?” Before a single word leaves his lips, a spark almost the size of a lightning strike pops out from the tv outlet. This is followed by every other outlet in the house causing a small shriek from Izuku. Plunged into darkness, their only light is from their cellphones that lost their WiFi signal. 

“Please tell me Denki is pranking us and our power didn’t just go out.” Izuku nearly begs as he takes a glance around the house. The smoking outlets thankfully caught no flame, but the once overwhelming house warmth began to dissipate. Shouto pulls away from his husband using his left hand as a temporary light. 

“We have candles.” 

 

 

After carefully unplugging unneeded cords and setting candles strategically, their house was somewhat ready for guests. Not well lit but inviting to say the least. 

“It’s five thirty. My mom should have been here by now.” Izuku picks up his phone just as a call from none other than Inko herself appears on his screen. 

“Hey, mom! Are you almost here?” He asks before hearing soft sniffling from the other end. It was mostly static and broken sentences that came from the phone line. 

“I’m so sorry...The roads...a mile high... snow...too dangerous...driving!” She wails through the failing call as more reports flood the TV screen with warnings. Unable to bear his mother’s tears, he tries to sooth her. 

“It’s okay, mom. Really, it is. I’m just glad you weren’t out there when turned ugly. The roads will be clear by tomorrow evening, and you can come then.” He hopes at least the majority of his words made it through to her end. As the two green haired cry babies struggle to comfort one another, Shouto receives a mass of texts from his family members. Apologies from every member as they explain why they can’t arrive for Christmas dinner. His father says a villain attack has him working through the storm, his siblings say the same as Inko, and his mother says the hospital refuses to let anyone leave. Struggling to reply to the messages, he tucks his phone away at the third pop up saying the texts can’t be sent. 

They ate their dinner in silence struggling to find the right words. Putting away the leftovers and cleaning in silence brought nothing as well. No cheer me up words. No inspiration. No hope of power returning to give them a Christmas they could see. Sitting down together on the couch, the couple sighs in unison. Silence fills the chilling house until Shouto hears a tiny noise. At first, it was almost impossible to decipher over the beating winds, but he hears the second one perfectly. Hot tears race down freckled cheeks as Izuku holds back as much sound as he could. A few whimpers and sobs slip passed his lips, but he can’t stop the tears. Nothing stops the pipe of resolve from bursting. 

“Why are you crying? Everyone said they would be okay.” Inko had stated clearly that she was stuck at home. Shouto’s family was indoors aside from his father, but the man is admissibly an ox. Even if it rains icicles, no frost can pass his brigade of flames. He places his hand on top of Izuku’s, which is gripping his shirt tight enough to tear it. 

“I know, b-but everything is ruined. We have no power, barely any service, and no one is coming to dinner. I wanted this t-to be perfect.” Izuku covers his eyes before he feels a cool hand brush away the droplets raining down his face. Shouto stands from the couch and makes his way along the dark paths of their house. Curious to the various footsteps going from room to room, his question is answered when Shouto returns with a pile of items bundled in his arms. He places a pillow on the floor, wraps Izuku is his favorite blanket, and lights their sleeping fireplace nestled below the TV. Laying down with his head resting on one side of the pillow, he pats the space beside him as if to beckon a shy pet. 

Glancing down to his husband, Izuku wraps himself extra tight in the blanket. The soft fabric brushing against peppered skin fends off the sickly coldness around him. Smile hidden by the blanket, he peaks at the inviting spot next to the man. 

“You’re sweet.” Accepting the invitation, Izuku lays with his body pressing against Shouto’s left side. He would never tire of the heated skin that welcomes him. Day or night, he could trust to feel his lover’s embrace during chilly times of year. 

“Merry Christmas, dearest.” Shouto’s soft, tender voice breaks through the howling winds trying to burst in through the windows. They beat and slam and punch the delicate glass, but they cannot come in. Nothing but their love and warmth fills the room. 

“Merry Christmas, sweetie.” 


End file.
